


Deep Devotion

by sempre_balla



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 05:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16191344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sempre_balla/pseuds/sempre_balla
Summary: For Maribelle, her love for Lissa is bright like sunshine, and its shape encloses everything that she is. That shape has not changed throughout the years, but it has aged. It has matured just like she has.





	Deep Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> When playing Awakening and discovering the children system I was kind of taken aback and refused to s support Lissa or Maribelle with anyone because I loved their relationship so much. Then I found out how great the children were, I s supported them, and started wondering if the girls would go through a similar process.
> 
> I wrote this quite quickly, but I felt really nice writing it. Hope it's nice to read as well!

When Gangrell falls and the war is over, Maribelle confesses her love to Lissa. She says nothing she hasn’t said before, not really, but her darling has lost, has grieved, and has grown. The Lissa before the war would blush and chuckle nervously when showered by Maribelle’s affections, never rejecting her feelings but never acknowledging them either.

The Lissa after Emmeryn’s death knows what losing someone she’d spent all her life with feels, and that Lissa smiles, blinks back tears, and lets Maribelle pepper her face with chaste kisses.

Things go well for a couple of years. Maribelle puts in her best effort to help Chrom and Lissa stand their ground without their sister. She executes her duties with gusto, and feels her heart swell with satisfaction and delight whenever either of the two siblings relies on her. Chrom proves himself to be more than a worthy ruler, and the Shepherds guard his back with pride. Lucina is born, and Ylisse rejoices. Lissa is happy again, and Maribelle loves her even more than she did before.

Maribelle is happy too, which should be a given considering Lissa’s own happiness. But this happiness is quite different, because the woman she never thought she could have is returning her affections twofold. Lissa starts calling her darling as well, and whenever she does so Maribelle’s heart does a funny little flip and her lips quirk up in a smile on their own. Lissa surprises her by brewing a different kind of tea every day so they can find out which flavor is more to Maribelle’s liking—even though Maribelle means it when she says that anything tastes sweet when Lissa is with her, the gesture makes her cheeks warm every time. Lissa kisses her under the shade of her parasol when they take walks on the gardens, giggling when Maribelle angles the parasol to cover them from prying eyes.

It’s perfect. Even when Ylisse joins the Feroxi on their war against Valm, it’s perfect. The Shepherds are stronger than ever, and knowing that she can stand her own on the battlefield better than before makes Maribelle claim that she will not let anyone harm her dear Lissa with even more confidence than she used to.

Then that mysterious girl that aided them two years ago comes back not as Marth, but as Lucina—dear, sweet Lucina, the same toddler that rests safe in the castle. And everything falls apart.

Cynthia is the first child they find, and she makes dread pool in Maribelle’s gut. Morgan is the next one, and Maribelle’s thoughts spiral into cruel, twisted things that disgust her when she catches herself feeling them. Owain is the third child they find, and Maribelle cannot look at Lissa in the eyes.

The boy is quite the buffoon, an obnoxious presence that is constantly shouting nonsense, but he’s a good boy. Despite his very obvious shortcomings, Maribelle can see traits of the person she holds the dearest in his mannerisms and personality. He brings other people up with his never ending energy, he is caring, he protects others with a passion. His laughter is boisterous and unbefitting of a prince, yet it is contagious. He is a good child. He calls her Aunt Maribelle. She grips her parasol tightly and forces a smile, a skill she has mastered during all her years in the court.

Maribelle despises herself for the loathsome feelings she harbors towards the child. He hasn’t done her any a harm, but his existence implies something that makes her throat tighten and her shoulders tense.

“I-I love you, Maribelle,” Lissa says one evening as they drink tea in her tent. “I can’t imagine anything that would tear us apart.”

“Neither can I, dear,” she replies, using her teacup to partially hide her face—a shield, so Lissa cannot read her. “Your son says we continue to be attached at the hip in the future, so there is no need to worry.”

Lissa frowns and looks down at her lap. Her hands are fiddling with the front of her skirt.

“You know what I mean,” she murmurs. “I love you. I want to be with you.”

Maribelle closes her eyes and sets her teacup down. She wills her expression to stay carefully blank when she looks at her companion and speaks again.

“But?”

Lissa takes a shuddering breath, bottom lip quivering.

“But I want him to be born.” The princess presses her hands to her face, shoulders set in a tense line. “I _need_ him to be born. He’s so, _so_ good, Maribelle, I love him _so_ —”

“Lissa, darling,” she interrupts, her tone firm but soft. Her voice is never cold with Lissa. It never will be. “I know. As I said, there’s no need to worry.”

“But what about us?”

“We will continue to be dear friends,” Maribelle says softly, trying her hardest to not let her voice waver. “So we shall break this of now, before it can cause any of us pain.”

Lissa’s eyes are damp when she lowers her hands and looks at Maribelle in the eyes. Her gaze is sad, but resigned, and Maribelle doesn’t know how that makes her feel.

“It already hurts, though,” the princess says, crestfallen. “Doesn’t it hurt you too?”

Tears pool in Maribelle’s eyes, but she smiles softly. She only smiles like this for her sweet Lissa.

“It does, love,” she whispers, barely audible. “It really does.”

That night, they share their last kiss.

Neither of them mope for long, and they continue to be each other’s source of support. They are in the midst of a war, and their performance in it determines whether or not they’ll have a future. Nights are lonely and there is an uncomfortable distance between them that they don’t allow themselves to breach, but they get by.

When Brady joins them, Maribelle understands—truly, _really_ understands—what Lissa was talking about. The boy’s aspect is shoddy his manners are a disaster, but as soon as she sets her eyes on him, she knows that he is hers. Shaping him into a civilized person that doesn’t express himself like an uncultured brute proves to be a failure, but Brady tries hard, and her heart fills with love for him.

She truly cannot imagine herself harboring feelings for anyone but Lissa, but if Brady is the produce of an unhappy marriage, then so be it. She stops trying to teach him proper speech, and teaches him the ways of battle instead. They fight, and fight, and fight, and it feels like they’ve been fighting for decades when they finally defeat Validar.

He isn’t the final stepping stone, however, because Grima rises, colossal in a way none of them could have ever imagined. The battle is brought to the dragon’s back, and Chrom chooses a small force to aid him and Robin in taking Grima down. Maribelle isn’t in the group, and Brady, thank Naga, isn’t either. Lissa, however, is right on the frontlines. She sends Maribelle an uneasy smile before marching onwards and leaving her behind. This battle Maribelle isn’t even a part of is the longest of her entire life. The wait is excruciating, especially when those who were left behind are too tense and worried to make a single sound.

When the enormous body of the dragon falls from the sky and sinks into the sea, Maribelle’s heart drops with it. Tears quickly cloud her vision, so she can’t see the flyers and the manaketes carrying their tattered little group to the ground. She can hear, though, and Lissa’s lovely voice, although tired and soft, stands out from that of the others in a way no other sound could.

For the first time since she met the princess, Maribelle allows herself to lose her composure and run towards her best friend and love of her life. She breaches the distance that had formed between them, hugs Lissa close and tight, and holds onto her for so long that she starts feeling like she will never be able to let go.

Everything feels like a blur when they go back home and peace settles on the land. Robin is gone, and although none of the Shepherds doubt that their tactician will come back to them, Chrom needs more support than ever to keep ruling Ylisse. Lissa gives it her all, and Maribelle gladly aids them both, her devotion almost matching Frederick’s. The children go back to their time after a short while, and though they will be terribly missed, Maribelle knows it won’t be long before they see them again.

Brady is born a year later, and that day Maribelle feels so much joy that it brings tears to her eyes. Owain doesn’t take much longer to join the world, and Maribelle finds herself loving the child as if he were her own. Her love for Lissa remains, and she comes to terms with the fact that that is enough. That she will always adore her princess and all the family surrounding her. She is relieved, and lives her days in peace with herself.

She lives a long life. Lissa does too.

Their hairs are starting to turn silver when Lissa whispers to her, “I still love you.”

“I know, darling,” Maribelle replies, a soft smile on her lips.

Lissa snickers and leans closer.

“What about you?” she asks.

Maribelle steals a quick kiss because she can, because they have grown and they have learnt that their children are not something that keeps them apart, but something that teaches them the many shapes that love can take.

For Maribelle, her love for Lissa is bright like sunshine, and its shape encloses everything that she is. That shape has not changed throughout the years, but it has aged. It has matured just like she has.

“Oh, love,” she says, her smile widening, “you already know the answer.”


End file.
